


Flirting with Danger

by darlingdany, quantumducky



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Fighting, Guns, M/M, background romantic analogical, mild violence, reporter!logan, roman has pyrokinesis and can fly!, superhero!roman, supervillain!deceit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-05-13 23:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14758022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingdany/pseuds/darlingdany, https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumducky/pseuds/quantumducky
Summary: Superhero life isn’t all sunshine and daisies…but constantly rescuing someone who is sunshine and daisies incarnate sure does make it a bit easier to deal with.or, Patton keeps getting himself into trouble so he can be saved by Roman,Virgil’s utterly exasperated, and Logan is just trying to do his job.





	1. the first time

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: a character being held at gun point, armed robbery

The first time it happened was pure coincidence- _it_ , of course, referring to Patton being caught up in a crime. It was really just a matter of bad timing and bad luck. All he’d wanted to do was head to the convenience store nearest his apartment building, buy a jug of milk so he could make pancakes tomorrow morning, and get some chips. Virgil had seemed upset about something that happened at work and so here Patton was, in the chip aisle, taking pictures of all the options. Doritos? No-ritos? Maybe that’d get a laugh out of him, although… it was kind of a bummer that Patton wouldn’t be there to hear the delightful sound.

Next thing he knew, though, there was some yelling, and when he turned around, there were three people wearing black ski masks and holding guns. _Chips suddenly don’t seem so important,_ Patton thought, dropping the bag of Lay’s he’d been holding. It notified the criminals of his presence and one spun towards him. The shouting was mostly garbled through the sound of Patton’s heart roaring in his ears, but he got the gist of it. Lowering himself to the floor and keeping his hands in clear view, Patton kept his eyes down, trying his best not to cry.

It wasn’t so easy a task. Patton was just naturally a crier and so the tears spilled over pretty quickly. He pulled the sleeves of his sweater down over his hands and pressed one against his mouth to muffle his whimpers. Virgil was going to be so worried. Could Patton reach his phone to send him a text? An _I love you_? There were more loud noises: the sound of a display being knocked over, a mother trying to quiet her sobbing child, and a fist slamming on the counter. The clerk was stammering, trying to explain that the till could only be opened if a purchase was being made. There was a clicking sound Patton had only ever heard in movies or television shows and his head snapped up to see a gun pointed between the employee’s eyes. Patton’s mouth was opening to… to… what? Make a distraction? Call for help? His voice got stuck in his throat. In the same moment, the sound of shattering glass came from Patton’s left. He ducked even lower, covering his head with his hands. His sweater paws kept his bare skin protected.

“Halt, villains!”

There was no mistaking who’d made an appearance. If the dramatic entrance wasn’t a big enough tell, the equally dramatic command would have been. Patton peeked from behind his fingers, watching the Prince’s (or His Highness’, or any other of his various “superhero” names) cape flutter in the breeze… the breeze that was coming in through the window he’d leapt through. His crown was nestled perfectly atop his red tinged hair and his green eyes sparkled prettily through his mask and… and Patton was in love.

“Oh, great, _this_ idiot.” Even with the insult, the robber’s voice trembled nervously. The other two had stopped what they were doing and looked frozen on the spot.

“I beg your pardon?!” the Prince said angrily, hands on his hips. Patton tried his gosh darn hardest to not squeal. His voice was even more captivating in person. All Patton had ever heard or seen of him was through news reports. This… seeing him up close, in real life… _wow_.

Quite unexpectedly, Patton’s phone went off, blaring Virgil’s _Nightmare Before Christmas_ ringtone into the otherwise mostly quiet store. “I’m sorry!” Patton yelped, scrambling to pull the device from his pocket to mute it, “don’t mind me, I-I’m not here!”

That failed spectacularly, however, as the leader of the trio stormed towards Patton and lifted him up by the collar of his sweater. There was suddenly a gun to his head. Patton stiffened, eyes going wide with terror, and dropped his phone. The man kicked it away. “Alright, Princey, one more step and he gets it.”

The hero didn’t look even slightly alarmed. “I’d like to see you try,” he taunted, and Patton was torn between swooning over his confidence or crying at his nonchalance or both.

The criminal snarled, shaking Patton roughly. He inhaled sharply. It was _fine_ , everything would be alright, he was going to be okay. “Sure you wanna test that?” He clicked the safety off. “This one’s not as tough as you are.” Patton squeezed his eyes shut and dug his fingernails into his palms, no no _no,_ no, it was _going to be okay._

“I never claimed to be bulletproof!” The Prince turned to the other two robbers. They jumped when he paced toward them, understandably wary, but he seemed to only be doing it for dramatic effect. “Did I ever claim to be bulletproof?”

They looked to each other, thrown off by the casual attitude. Finally, the one with blonde hair spilling down their back spoke. “No… I don’t think so?”

“Thank you!”

“Hey!” The one threatening Patton shouted, and he flinched away from the sound with a quiet whimper. “D’you really think now’s the time?!” He was stepping back towards his team, dragging Patton along with him. He did his best to not trip over his own feet, not wanting to anger the man any further.

“Got you all distracted, didn’t it?”

The hero grinned and darted forward. It startled the one holding Patton into tightening his finger on the trigger, and it clicked, and Patton almost screamed, but… nothing happened? And then the man holding him up dropped, his legs knocked out from under him, and Patton did as well, too shocked to catch himself. He had barely begun to fall forward onto his knees when strong arms caught him and deposited him safely outside. “Be right back, handsome,” the Prince promised, winking, before disappearing back into the store.

Patton slid down the wall and blinked, trying to clear his head. What had just happened? Shouldn’t he be dead? Sure, he’d been a little dazed by the attractive hero, and a lot terrified at being so close to dying, but he hadn’t been _that_ out of it, had he? The sound of sirens filtered in passed his confusion and he was just turning to look towards the street when a body collided into his.

“ _PATTON!!!!”_ It screamed, knocking them both to the ground.

“Oh, hi, Virgil,” Patton said mildly, wincing at the bruises he could already feel forming and wondering if he might be in shock.

“Patton, oh my God, are you okay, please tell me you’re not hurt, I saw police cars go tearing by the apartment, towards the store, and I knew you’d gone to get chips and milk, and you didn’t text me back when I said I was okay with Doritos, and I got worried and called you and then you didn’t answer my call, and you _always answer when I call_ , and I got so scared, and _worried_ , and, and, and…”

Virgil’s rambling trailed off into distressed muttering as he sat back and checked over his childhood best friend and current roommate. He looked for any sign of injury. There were little shards of glass in the fabric of his sweater and Virgil immediately pulled it off of him, tossing the thing aside. It was one of Virgil’s old ones; it was fraying at every edge and Patton was always swimming in it, but he said it was too comfy to throw away. Virgil was going to make _sure_ it got thrown away this time.

“I’m okay,” Patton said, combing a hand through Virgil’s hair, which was… drenched in sweat. Actually, all of Virgil was drenched in sweat. He was having trouble catching his breath partially due to panic but also because of the exertion. “Did you _run_ here?” Patton asked, touched by Virgil’s concern but also concerned for Virgil’s health.

“Did I… yes. For you? Patton, yeah, of course.”

“Well, isn’t this romantic.”

Patton’s eyes darted up to the figure climbing through the destroyed window. Princey still looked dashing as ever, despite having just apprehended three armed criminals. Patton’s heart thudded against his ribcage.

“Your cape’s on fire,” Virgil said with the most unimpressed tone Patton had ever heard from him, and that was really saying something.

“What?!” The hero shrieked, pulling the fabric forward and patting the flames out. He very well could have just snapped his fingers and made it go away, but he must’ve still been caught up in the moment. Patton thought it was cute.

He stood up, accepting Virgil’s help to do so, even as the other was still working on evening out his breathing. The sirens were louder now. Red and blue lights were flashing all around them but Patton was focused solely on the green irises staring at him through a maroon mask.

“You saved me.”

Patton was distantly aware of Virgil groaning. He knew his best friend had never cared for the superheroes of this city, or superheroes in general, really. They were all pompous, all thought themselves above the law, all never took responsibility for their actions.

“It’s my job,” the Prince said sincerely, reaching forward and taking one of Patton’s hands in his own. He brought the knuckles to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to them. “I could never live with myself if you’d been hurt.”

Patton giggled helplessly, averting his gaze.

“Alright, we get it, you’re both sappy lovestruck idiots. Can we focus on more important things? Like, oh, I don’t know, the fact that you _could have died, Patton_.” Virgil was sounding more and more frustrated by the second and Patton didn’t want to upset him any further, especially after he’d already been so worried.

He took his hand back and clutched it to his chest, hoping he didn’t look as silly as he felt, wearing a _Steven Universe_ shirt in front of the city’s most famous superhero. “Thank you,” he said with soft reverence and hearts in his eyes.

“Your Highness!” A voice came breaking through the moment. “Could we get a report, please?” It was the Chief of Police, followed by three officers, who headed immediately into the store to take the criminals into custody.

“Absolutely, my good sir!” The hero exclaimed, giving his attention to the authority figure. Even as he turned away, he shot a wink over his shoulder to Patton, who blushed fiercely and finally gave in, squealing into his hands.

Before Patton could do anything else, Virgil looped his arm around his shoulders and towed him away. “We do _not_ need to get dragged into that,” he was saying, “they’ll have other witnesses, it’ll be fine.” He kept pulling Patton along, not wanting him to realize he was leaving the sweater behind or be distracted again by Prince Airhead.

They could get groceries and a new sweater later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us at [notveryglittery](https://notveryglittery.tumblr.com) (dani) and [do-your-socks-have-holes-in-them](https://do-your-socks-have-holes-in-them.tumblr.com) (nick)!! 
> 
> read on [tumblr](https://notveryglittery.tumblr.com/tagged/superhero-au/chrono)!!  
> also, we make no promises on a consistent update schedule but we love this au very much and will not let it die :')


	2. *mcelroy voice* hotboy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton doesn't have his priorities straight. Virgil doesn't have the patience for this. Roman has a delivery to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: one (1) very mild burn, mentions of guns/violence

For someone who’d nearly died, Patton was awfully cheerful the next morning. Virgil stumbled out of his room on little sleep- it had _not_ been the most relaxing night, okay- and found him dancing around the kitchen island, humming to himself while mixing up pancake batter. They still didn’t have any milk, but Patton had his heart set on pancakes, so he’d found a recipe online last night that didn’t require it.

He rubbed his eyes and propped himself up in the kitchen’s entrance. “What’s with the good mood?”

“Oh! Good morning!” Patton turned around in a movement that could almost be called a twirl, forgot he was still holding a wooden mixing spoon and accidentally flung some of the batter at his roommate. Fortunately, Virgil had good reflexes and was used to living with him by now. “Oops,” Patton said a bit sheepishly, grabbing a paper towel to clean it off the wall. “I guess I’m a little distracted today!”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Virgil deadpanned. _“Why,_ though?” He took in the blush starting to appear on Patton’s face along with his wide smile and groaned. “Don’t tell me- are you still swooning over that super-headache?”

Patton gave him a pouty almost-glare. “Do you have to call him that?”

“Yeah, actually, it’s in the Best Friends Contract. You should’ve read the fine print.” He rolled his eyes fondly, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. “Fine, get it out of your system, I know you wanna gush.”

The smile came back brighter than ever. “He was just _so cool,”_ Patton practically squealed, spinning in a circle and pressing his hands over his heart. “Or, I guess technically _hot-_ I was really scared but then he showed up and _he_ wasn’t scared at _all_ even though they had guns-”

“They _what?!”_

“-and his costume looks _so good_ on him, I wonder if he made it himself, I wouldn’t be surprised, and his _eyes, Virge, did you see his eyes, they’re so pretty,_ and his voice oh my goodness I almost _melted,_ well, not really, ‘cause I was pretty tense then, but-”

“Wait, go back- Patton, you didn’t tell me they had _guns,_ what the hell!”

“Oh, right- Language! But yeah, they did, one of them was threatening me, but it’s fine because he saved me-”

_“That doesn’t make it fine!”_

“It does too! That’s like the whole _point_ of getting saved! He did something to the guy and I kinda fell and he caught me and carried me outside and he’s so _strong_ and his _arms_ and he called me _handsome, can you even believe that Virgil,_ and then he even came out and talked to me after, everything he does is just _adorable,_ wait oh gosh I think he might have been flirting, do you think he was flirting with me?!” Patton finally stopped talking, a little out of breath and starry-eyed, his hands pressed to his cheeks.

“Uh… I think…”

“Yeah?” Patton was grinning.

“I think your priorities are _so incredibly messed up_ I don’t even know where to _start.”_

He dimmed only slightly. “But, Virgil, I think he likes me! Him! An _actual_ superhero- why would I wanna think about the scary parts when I can think about the fact that I’m in _love, Virgil,_ he set my _heart_ on fire!”

“Oh, no, please don’t be.” Virgil did _not_ need this, especially not first thing in the morning when he hadn’t slept well. He had _so_ been hoping it was another one of Patton’s little infatuations that would be gone before next week. Now he was going to invest his whole heart in this dude and probably end up getting it crushed- from what Virgil had seen of this Prince dude, he wouldn’t be surprised if he only saved people’s lives for the media attention and praise it got him. He certainly seemed to thrive on it. “What are you even _basing_ this on?”

“It’s _love!_ It doesn’t have to be based on anything! Anyway, didn’t you see how he kissed my hand, it was- ohh, it was just the _sweetest thing!”_ Patton clutched the hand in question to his chest, reliving the feeling. “How could I _not_ be in love with him!”

“You’re just…” Virgil shook his head. He didn’t like to rain on his friend’s parade, but if he didn’t at least get his expectations down a _little_ he was going to get hurt. “You had one interaction, Pat, how do you know he doesn’t flirt with _everyone_ he saves? Maybe it’s just a, a way to calm people down. He’s a minor celebrity, for crying out loud, what are the chances of- look, all I’m saying is I wouldn’t start planning the wedding, okay?”

Patton frowned at him, clearly disagreeing, but not wanting to argue about it. “Okay, I won’t. ...Yet,” he added under his breath. He then dropped the subject (for now) and turned around to finish the pancakes, pulling Virgil along with him for extra help. It was in the middle of this that Patton realized he’d never gotten his phone back. He whined about it for a bit, over all the photos he’d lost, and the nice text messages he’d never gotten to save. Virgil promised they’d call the police station to see if it’d been turned in and that had significantly cheered Patton right back up.

Not long after breakfast was over, though, Virgil found out that Patton had actually absorbed his warnings for once, and that maybe this time he’d prefer to have been ignored. Blindly optimistic, lovestruck Patton had been _way_ easier to deal with than the nervous mess he was now.

“Maybe you’re right,” he fretted, twisting his hands together as he paced in front of the living room couch. “Maybe- maybe he’s just nice and I got over-excited because I like _him_ so much, and he was just trying to make me feel better after having a gun in my face, and he _is_ a superhero, he must get people saying they’re in love with him all the time, I shouldn’t bother him even if I _do_ see him again… But then again, he could have made me feel better _without_ flirting- but why would he actually think I was handsome like that, I was a mess and scared and wearing a shirt for a kids’ show, he _was_ just being nice, oh, I feel so bad for misinterpreting that, I hope I didn’t make him uncomfortable…”

 _“Slow down,”_ Virgil told him. He was sitting on the couch and trying his best to help, but his best wasn’t great in this particular situation. “You sound like me. As in, literally, you’re saying some of the same things I said… weren’t you this close to arguing with me about that?” he reminded him almost pleadingly. He wouldn’t have said anything if he’d known Patton would take his doubts to heart like this.

“Yeah, but then I _thought_ about it a bunch!”

“Oof. Yeah, that’s always dangerous.”

“You know what, I’m just never going to go outside again, then I won’t have to worry about meeting him again or—”

Patton’s resolution to stay in their apartment building for the rest of his natural life was cut short when they heard a knock at the door. Only, it wasn’t the _hallway_ door. It was the glass doors leading out onto the _balcony._ They looked over and saw the Prince standing outside, giving them a little wave as if this were completely normal. The second they made eye contact, Patton screamed and bolted around the corner into his room.

“Oh no you don’t, get back here, I’m not dealing with him alone!” Virgil caught the door before he could slam it shut.

“Noooo, I can’t talk to him like _this!”_ He looked slightly panicked as Virgil dragged him out of the room by his collar. The collar, Virgil realized, of his pajamas, but it was too late now, wasn’t it?

“Look at it this way, Patton, you _know_ how I feel about superheroes and you do _not_ want me talking to him unsupervised.”

Patton paused in his struggling and stopped trying to push Virgil away. Sure, he had just been worrying about making the hero uncomfortable, and might not have wanted to bother him anymore, but… Well, could he be blamed for longing to see him just _one_ more time? Besides, it wasn’t really fair to hand all of his problems over to Virgil. Best friends just didn’t do that to each other. “You have a point.” With a resigned sigh, Patton straightened his shirt out and steeled his resolve. The two of them walked back into the living room as if nothing had happened.

The hero on the balcony looked a little confused, but handled it gracefully enough. Patton fumbled with the latch and opened the sliding door. “Um- hi! What brings you here?” he asked with his most welcoming smile, clasping his hands behind his back to keep them under control.

“Greetings!” the hero exclaimed with a wide sweep of his arm. When Patton and Virgil flinched at his volume, he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Your phone!” he continued, his voice lowered but his gestures still plenty loud. “I’ve searched high and low, through every valley and peak, to find you so I might return it! It has been a grand adventure, but to see your smiling face…” He paused, looking at Patton with such warm eyes that he nearly fainted on the spot while Virgil groaned in the background. “Every hardship was worth it.” With that final declaration, he offered the device in question to its owner.

Before Patton could thank him, or even remember how to move, Virgil folded his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows. “Our address is in the phone,” he pointed out flatly, “couldn’t have been _that_ hard to find him.”

Unexpectedly, the Prince made a face at him and replied, “Oh, hush!” Virgil recovered from his surprise quickly enough to stick his tongue out in response.

Patton couldn’t stop himself; a giggle spilled from his lips. That had just been too cute! The sound brought the Prince’s attention back to him, and Patton felt heat creep into his face as the hero’s expression softened into an earnest smile and he took a small step closer, not quite into the apartment, holding the phone out again. Right, that was why he was here in the first place, they’d just established that like ten seconds ago.

“Well, thank you so much for coming all the way here to give it to me!” Patton regained his voice, even if it was coming out a bit high-pitched. Then he reached out to take his cell phone, and would you look at that, there went his vocal chords again, because their fingers brushed and his mind blanked out for a second.

He wasn’t sure his heart hadn’t stopped beating for a second. When he pulled himself together enough to think, if not enough to pull away, their hands were still touching- the Prince was frozen in place as much as he was. Maybe he’d seen Patton freeze up and didn’t know what to do about it? Wait, was it just the light or was his face getting red? Patton blinked and narrowed his eyes in concern, opening his mouth to ask if _he_ was okay, only to suddenly jerk his hand away on instinct and stumble back a step. His phone fell on the floor for the second time in as many days.

“Ouch!” he yelped, sticking his fingers in his mouth. “Was- was that you?”

“I am _so sorry!_ I can normally control myself better than this, I- I don’t know what came over me!” The pyrokinetic hero took a step back, holding his hands up. There was no mistaking the color in his face now, as he was bright red with embarrassment. Patton thought he could feel the heat radiating off his palms even from two feet away. “I’m so sorry about that, I’ll just- go-”

“Oh- no, no, it’s okay, you don’t have to-!” Patton tried to tell him, but he’d flown off before he could even finish the sentence. He hadn’t seen the glare Virgil had been giving the Prince from behind his back. Patton sighed and slumped against the doorway, feeling an odd mixture of emotions- he’d actually _come here,_ he could have just left Patton’s phone at the police station or something but he came to give it to him personally, and he _might_ have been just as flustered as Patton when their hands brushed, and it seemed once again like he might have a chance- but then he’d just _left_ and Patton didn’t have any way of contacting him and they would probably never see each other again!

While lost in his thoughts, Virgil disappeared and returned with a tube of burn cream. Patton turned to him. “Virgil, he _left_ , what am I gonna _do_?!” he cried, slightly despairing.

“Wha- don’t ask _me_ ! You know how I feel about superheroes _and_ love, especially when you’ve talked to him a for a total of like five minutes _ever._ How do you expect me to give you good advice?” As Virgil spoke, he lead Patton back into the apartment. “I can’t even give good advice about things I _do_ know the first thing about, let alone crushes… don’t make that face at me, okay, I’m just _saying_ .” He sat Patton down on the couch and took his injured hand carefully in his own. “Here, let me see what that idiot did to your hand real quick.” Patton sat still and patient, even though the fussing wasn’t really warranted and he would be all better by tomorrow morning anyway. He let Virgil rant under his breath for a minute or two about stupid “heroes” who don’t pay attention to the damage their powers can cause before speaking up again with what was on _his_ mind.

“...Okay, but… do you think he likes me, though?”

Virgil let out a long sigh. He put his face in his hands, careful not to get burn cream in his hair. Finally, he looked back up, expression resigned. “You know what, Patton? Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us at [notveryglittery](https://notveryglittery.tumblr.com) (dani) and [do-your-socks-have-holes-in-them](https://do-your-socks-have-holes-in-them.tumblr.com) (nick)!! 
> 
> read on [tumblr](https://notveryglittery.tumblr.com/tagged/flirting-with-danger/chrono)!!  
> also, we make no promises on a consistent update schedule but we love this au very much and will not let it die :')


	3. sky soliloquy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman has a crisis at some birds. Logan is almost impossibly professional. A grocery store employee experiences a baffling celebrity encounter.

The wind against his skin was like aloe vera on a burn. Or, that’s how Roman imagined it would have felt, seeing as he’d never needed a reason to use aloe vera, because he’d never actually been burnt before. His face felt as if it _were,_ though, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Roman had _also_ never really blushed _this much._ He ran a hand down his face, wondering how it were possible for him to _actually_ feel hot when he was already consistently a few degrees warmer than the normal 98.6°F. At the very least, even if he was blushing like mad, there wasn’t anyone around to see it, given that he was quite a few hundred feet up in the air. It also gave him the perfect opportunity to vocalize all the thoughts that were rushing through his mind.

“That went just fine,” he said aloud. “It went okay. It went better than you thought it would? No, that’s not true… You had it all planned out! You were doing great right up until…” Roman sighed, diving through a cloud. He came back out slightly damp and cursed himself for forgetting that it was supposed to rain today. Steam hissed off of his skin as he warmed up just enough to get dry. “Right up until you went to hand back the phone and your fingers brushed against his, and oh _wow,_  his skin was so _soft,_  and then you _burnt him!_ ”

Roman cried out in anguish, accidentally flinging himself into a flock of birds. They squawked angrily; he apologized as he darted away from them before continuing. “You didn’t even stay long enough to see if he was alright! You’ve faced far worse than the glare of his _Surly_ Temple roommate! And yet! _And yet!_ You fled! You absolute coward, Roman!” He grabbed the edges of his cape and pulled it close, wrapping himself up in it. His crown shifted, but he trusted the well placed bobby pins to keep it secure.

“At least you apologized?” He mused, voice muffled by the soft fabric. “And he called after you? That’s what it sounded like, at least?” Roman blinked up at the clear blue sky above him, gaze going distant and dreamy. “He was so _sweet._ Oh, when he giggled! The way his voice got all high pitched!” Roman stretched back out, spinning through the air. “The pretty blush on his cheeks and, ahh, his pajamas! He looked so cozy! He had _bedhead!_ His hair was so _fluffy!_ ” Roman circled around more clouds, hoping to turn them into cotton candy swirls, like Aladdin and Jasmine did on their magic carpet ride. When he looked back at his handiwork, the shape didn’t hold as well, but practice made perfect! He’d try again later! “I’m in love, I’m in love, and I don’t care who knows it!” He sang, letting himself plummet back down to Earth.

All the world felt aglow and not a single thing could dim it. Not even the fact that he _still_ didn’t properly have the name of the man that had stolen his heart. (It was Patton, according to the purple haired emo that he lived with.) Roman swooped lower, watching as the city grew larger the closer he neared it. He rushed by skyscrapers and construction sites, waving to all who cheered up at him. The longer he flew, however, the longer he was left to ruminate on how he’d all but _abandoned_ Patton with what could have been a third degree burn. He’d just _shown up_ at their apartment, like some sort of stalker, when he could have left the phone with the police! He’d… Roman groaned, losing focus, and landing roughly on what seemed to be the roof of a grocery store. He’d let Patton think he didn’t care whether or not that ruffian shot him!

He came staggering to a stop and proceeded to stumble over a roof access panel. He swore as he crashed, not even bothering to try and catch himself. His exposed fingers and forearms stung after the impact but he ignored the pain, immediately rolling over onto his back. Reaching up, Roman shoved his mask off, and into his bangs. “I can never see him again,” he lamented. “I’ve made too many mistakes and he must hate me now.” He threw an arm over his eyes. “Even if _he_ doesn’t, his roommate surely does, and I cannot come between them. For all you know, they’re living their happily ever after together! You’re such a moron, Roman, truly.”

He couldn’t say how much longer he lay there. He kept his eyes closed and hummed a show tune, trying his best to block out the negative thoughts before he could spiral any further. Eventually, the very same hatch he’d tripped over, popped open.

“Uhm… Pardon me, Your Highness…” A timid voice called.

Roman scrambled to pull his mask back on and sat up so quickly, it gave him whiplash. “Yes?” He responded, somehow managing to sound just as regal as ever, thank Dame Judi Dench.

“I don’t mean to bother you, but a customer said you’d landed on our roof a bit ago, and never left and…” The girl pulled her braid forward and ran her hands over it nervously. She hadn’t climbed all the way out of the hatch and seemed to be balancing rather precariously on the ladder leading to the roof. “We’re just worried, is all, so I thought I would come to check on you.”

Roman’s heart swelled with affection at the kindness of this stranger. Getting to his feet, he closed the short distance between them while she squeaked in surprise and scrambled the rest of the way up. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and smiled softly. “I’m quite alright, thank you—” He paused to read her name tag. “Priscilla. That’s a lovely name.”

Priscilla squeaked again. “Thank you,” she said, hiding behind her scarf, and staring up at him with awe. “Okay, well… I’m glad you’re okay!” She was clearly about to start asking questions and so Roman patted her once on the head before turning away and taking off again into the skies. The last thing Roman needed was for someone to ask him what was wrong; there was no doubt he’d rant to the first willing ear about how both _nothing_ and _everything_ was wrong.

It was almost two in the afternoon when his phone went off. He’d been parkouring along rooftops when it did, blaring the default ringtone. Slowing down just enough to catch his breath, Roman checked the caller ID and was simultaneously irritated and delighted at the contact. He answered, pacing back and forth, and checking his nails as he did so.

“Greetings, Lo!” The nickname annoyed the reporter to no end and Roman took advantage of it every chance he got. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Sure enough, Logan’s tone was already nearing _“entirely done with this conversation”_ and they hadn’t even _started_ yet. “Salutations. Are you terribly busy right now?”

Roman kicked at a stray rock and hummed, taking an unnecessarily long amount of time to answer. “Nope!” When he finally replied, he popped the ‘p’ and allowed his grin to seep into his voice.

“It’s been brought to my attention that you put a stop to a robbery yesterday evening. Might I have an interview regarding the incident?”

Despite knowing that this was all Logan ever called for, Roman was still happy to be asked. It might have been the joy he got from sharing his stories with as much gusto as possible, or maybe he took any opportunity to brag about his latest victory, or perhaps he just soaked up the attention like a cat lounging in the sunlight. It… was definitely all three at once. “I’d _love_ to!” He agreed cheerfully. “The usual meeting spot?”

“That is preferable, yes. Would meeting, say, an hour from now give you adequate time to prepare?”

“I could be there now!” Roman was already pacing for the edge of the roof, ready to take off. He wavered unsteadily at the edge when Logan spoke next.

“While your enthusiasm is… appreciated, we can’t all avoid traffic by flying to get wherever we please. It’ll take me a while longer.” Logan didn’t sound like he appreciated Roman’s enthusiasm at all. It stung a little but Roman brushed it off. He’d had worse.

Roman grumbled, taking a few steps back. “I understand. I’ll see you in an hour, then.” Before any more could be said, Roman hung up, perhaps tapping the screen a bit more forcefully than needed. He slipped it back into one of the few pockets of his suit (he’d wanted more when he had designed it, but, after a few experimental test flights, had discovered carrying too much for too long exhausted him quickly). With a sigh, he shook his head, and hoped it would help to rid him of the sudden feeling that something bad was going to happen. Smiling wide, Roman darted off of the roof, and into the air. He had some time to freshen up and he intended to use every minute to its fullest.

Forty-five minutes later, Roman found himself behind Penrose Public Library, knocking on the Employees Only entrance door. It didn’t take very long for it to be answered and when the door opened, he was met with an older woman. Her face was kind and lined with laughter and she gave him a gentle pat on the cheek as she let him in.

“Good evening, my dearest Genevieve,” Roman said to her, following as she lead the way.

“Hello to you, too, sweetheart.” She sounded fondly exasperated, which wasn’t surprising, given that she’d all but adopted him since finding out his parents lived a couple cities over. It was hard work, keeping a superhero well fed and healthy, but Genevieve wouldn’t change it for the world. “Logan is here already. He’s waiting for you in the study room.”

Roman thanked her and hurried through the library, ducking in and out of empty aisles so as not to be spotted. It was quiet today, thankfully, and he made it without issue, slipping into the room and closing the door carefully behind him. The blinds were already pulled shut and there Logan was, sitting at the table, with all of his equipment laid out and ready. He looked almost smug at the fact that even though Roman was fifteen minutes early, he’d still arrived first.

“Did you experience an unusual amount of air traffic on the way here, then?”

Roman scowled at him while he took a seat. He let his cape drape over the back of the chair and folded his arms across his chest. It wasn’t like Roman was _late;_  he’d had time to go home and take care of a few things and _still_ show up fifteen minutes early. It wasn’t _his_ fault Logan apparently didn’t have anything better to do! “You said an _hour,_ ” Roman snarked back.

Logan seemed unaffected by his irritation. “Well, irregardless of how long it took, we are both here now. We can begin the interview whenever you’re ready.”

“I was born ready,” Roman answered, wearing his most charming smile.

Logan wasted no time in setting up the camera, checking to make sure that they would both be in the shot. (He had to take into account Roman’s tendency towards exaggerated gestures, and the associated risk of personal injury should they be seated too close together.) He’d managed already to speak with one of the witnesses, a woman who’d been shopping with her child, as well as the employee who had been victim to the attempted robbery. His notes on the matter were frustratingly sparse, however, and he hoped an interview with the hero would prove elucidating.

He gave Roman a moment to prepare before clicking the record button on the camera. The green light came on and Roman grinned towards the lens, looking as if he could take on the world.

“Good evening. I’m Logan Roberts and I’m here today with our local superhero, commonly referred to as the Prince, for an interview regarding yesterday’s attempted robbery at a 7-Eleven on the corner of Garden Lane and Vine Row.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us at [notveryglittery](https://notveryglittery.tumblr.com) (dani) and [do-your-socks-have-holes-in-them](https://do-your-socks-have-holes-in-them.tumblr.com) (nick)!! 
> 
> read on [tumblr](https://notveryglittery.tumblr.com/tagged/flirting-with-danger/chrono)!!  
> also, we make no promises on a consistent update schedule but we love this au very much and will not let it die :')


	4. the interview™

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which three-quarters of our cast are useless gays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of the events from chapter 1 (armed robbery, character held at gunpoint)

“Good evening. I’m Logan Roberts and I’m here today with our local superhero, commonly referred to as the Prince, for an interview regarding yesterday’s attempted robbery at a 7-Eleven on the corner of Garden Lane and Vine Row.” Logan turned his attention to Roman. “Thank you for your time.”

Roman winked at the camera before facing Logan. “It’s always an absolute pleasure!”

Used to his dramatics by this point, Logan ignored him and shouldered on. “There were three armed suspects, correct? Two male and one female?” Logan made a note here to edit their mugshots in afterwards.

“Yes. Taken care of in no time at all! It was quite easy, really—”

“Your timing was impressive, I will admit.” He didn’t _sound_ impressed; the twitch of a frown on Roman’s lips was so miniscule, it went largely unnoticed. “It was brought to my attention, however, that a victim was held at gunpoint?”

There was really no helping the way Roman melted. He propped an elbow onto the table and then his chin into his hand. “Yeah,” he said dreamily, staring off into the distance.

Logan leveled a flat stare towards the camera, as if to say _“do you see what I’m dealing with here?”_ He cleared his throat and poked Roman’s arm with his pen. “The less cutting I have do in edits, the better.”

Roman snapped out of it and allowed his gaze to flicker back and forth between Logan and the camera. “Sorry, Logan,” he mumbled, drawing forward a bit of his cape, and twisting it between his hands. He shook off the distraction and slipped right back into interview mode. “Yes, there was. It was bad timing, is all. He’s quite alright, though!”

Logan leaned forward, curiosity shining bright in his brown eyes. “From what I understand, the gun went off. Just how does that add up, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Roman let go of his cape and raised one of his hands from beneath the table. He clicked his fingers and allowed the flame it created to linger there for a moment as he spoke. “Well, we all know how undeniably hot I am—” he paused to wink at the lens and Logan resisted the urge to smack him, “— it’s just a pyrokinetic perk. I can stop the gunpowder from being ignited.” The fire at the end of his finger went out with a flick of his wrist.

Logan put it down in his notes before continuing. “That’s fascinating.” Roman positively _basked_ in the compliment. “You said that the victim is quite alright. How can you be so sure? He didn’t stay behind to talk with the police.”

Again, Roman’s gaze went a little distant, but it would really only be noticed by anyone watching with eyes of a hawk. “His friend arrived on the scene before the officers did and insisted they get home as quickly as possible. Seeing as there were others to give a statement, it didn’t seem like much of a problem.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Logan followed without hesitation. “How would you know how he is faring? No one knows who he is, so it isn’t like you could have sought him… out… afterwards…”

Roman’s eyes went wide. Logan looked like the cat that caught the canary. For a few seconds, it was silent. Roman waited for Logan to ask another question or maybe to redirect the interview into a safer direction. Logan waited for Roman to elaborate. Roman caved.

“Alright, fine! So maybe I found his phone on the floor of the convenience store! It would have been rude to not return it to him! You know how we’re all about our phones in this day and age, and besides, who knows how many pictures he had on there that would have just been _lost_ ?!” Roman ranted, hands flailing as he did so. “His address was on the lock screen so I… took it to him. The next day. This morning. And he was fine! And when I say fine, wow do I mean _fine_.”

Logan coughed into his hand. Roman scrambled to backtrack. “Like, super okay! He wasn’t hurt at all! I only said _fine_ like that because he was so fine! Great!” His voice was pitching higher the harder he tried to fix it. “And his roommate’s okay, too! In case you were wondering or if you think that might be important to… add. Include? Everybody’s great!!”

This was… getting out of hand. Logan sighed. “You’re very lucky we aren’t live right now.”

“I know,” Roman squeaked. He dropped his face into his hands and when he spoke next, it was muffled. Logan could only assume that Roman was assuming he’d edit this. “I’m making such a fool of myself. What if he watches this? I’d die of embarrassment.”

“I had intended to make cuts. You are making it quite difficult, however.” At this rate, the interview would look choppy. Logan considered just starting over but their time was limited. Perhaps he could leave it as it was… It wouldn’t hurt if the hero took a blow to his ego.

“I’m sorry,” Roman muttered, sounding genuinely contrite. “I can do better.”

“I’m sure that you can.” Logan glanced towards the camera, the recording light still strong. “Let’s get back to the interview and I’ll see what I can do in post.”

Roman sat up straighter in his chair and tried to banish all thoughts of Patton from his mind. There were more important things to address. He just had to hope that Logan would be able to do enough cleaning up that it would all look alright in the end.

“Regarding your entrance,” Logan began, glancing down at his notes. “You broke in through the window, despite the door having been readily available for use. The cost of damages ended up being equal to what would have been stolen from the register. There’s also the matter of the destroyed displays; there were three of them, two of which were your doing.”

Roman looked downright offended. “I am a _superhero_ , Logan! Dramatic entrances are just part of the job description!” He huffed and brushed a strand of hair out of his face. It was starting to get a little unruly with all of his gesturing. “I could fix the displays in no time, if necessary! I can pay for the window, too! I haven’t had a chance yet to speak with the owners. I gave the police their statement before there was a minor misdemeanor I had to attend to.”

“Oh?” Logan asked and Roman internally cursed. He had to go and run his mouth, didn’t he? Logan could sense a story from miles away and here Roman was, handing it to him on a silver platter. “What happened there?”

“Nothing important!” Honestly, it really wasn’t. A text had come from Roman’s neighbor, saying they’d lost their cat and Roman wasn’t about to let Talyn worry a single minute more than they needed to. He turned to face the camera. “If the proprietors of the 7-Eleven on Garden Lane and Vine Row would please get in contact with me, so that we can work this out, that would be delightful.” See, Roman could be responsible!

“Alright…” Logan agreed hesitantly, clearly itching still to know just _what_ Roman had to leave in such a hurry for. Perhaps he’d get the answer once they were finished.

 

* * *

 

Patton, precariously balancing a bowl of popcorn and two glasses of soda, came rushing into the living room from the kitchen, looking very much like an excited puppy. After the Prince had returned his cell phone, he’d transferred all of his photos over onto his laptop, and was pleased as punch knowing now that he’d never lose those memories. On top of that, he and Virgil had made snickerdoodles, and then Patton had gone through their apartment complex, offering said cookies to their neighbors, because it was such a fun word to say, and they had all been really happy about it, which made Patton really happy about it, and _gosh!!_ He was just having such a good day!!

Now, to make things _even better,_ one of the city’s most well renowned reporters had interviewed the Prince regarding yesterday’s (almost) robbery. That meant Patton was going to get to see his favorite superhero on screen and he could gush to Virgil all over again about how amazing and fearless he had been.

“Did it start yet?!” He asked eagerly but before he could get an answer, his foot caught the edge of the coffee table. It should have been an absolute disaster; they should have missed the interview in favor of scrubbing soda out of the carpet. However, Patton felt the familiar gentle weight of shadows curling up around his legs, and pushing against his stomach, keeping him upright just long enough for Virgil to spring off of the sofa. He caught Patton by the shoulders and while the drinks _did_ slosh a bit over the edges of the cups, it mostly did so onto their nightwear, and not the floor itself.

“Are you okay?” Virgil asked, taking the bowl of popcorn from Patton, and setting it down on the arm of the couch. The darkness faded from his eyes, lightening back to hazel, as the shadows slipped away to their corners. Patton, as he always did any time Virgil used his powers to keep him safe, smiled after them as they went.

“I’m okay!” He said, putting the cups down on the table. “I’m gonna go get some paper—”

“Nope,” Virgil interrupted. “ _You_ sit down, _I’ll_ go get the paper towels.”

Before Patton could protest, Virgil was carefully pushing him down on the couch, and leaving for the kitchen. He sat still for about five seconds before getting cozy and crossing his legs; he grabbed the popcorn and held it in his lap. Commercials were playing on the television screen but the audio was muted for the time being. When Virgil returned, he was carrying not only a handful of paper towels, but the bottle of root beer itself.

“For when you inevitably spill more,” he teased, when Patton gave him a questioning look.

A few minutes later, they were situated comfortably on the sofa; Virgil had his legs stretched out and his feet, clad in fuzzy socks, resting on the table. A blanket was wrapped around their shoulders and Patton was nestled against Virgil, content and warm.

“Alright, I _guess_ I’m ready for you to squeal over Prince Not-So-Charming’s interview, but can you keep it down _just_ enough for us to _actually_ hear it?”

“ _Virge,_ ” Patton whined, elbowing him in the side. “Let me live!!”

Virgil stuck his tongue out at Patton and turned the volume on. Some generic opening music played before Logan Roberts appeared on screen; he looked proper as ever. Beside him was the Prince and Patton was _immediately_ wiggling on the spot. When he winked at the camera, Patton flapped his arms, hitting Virgil in the face with his sweater paws, before covering his mouth, and squealing into the fabric. When Logan cut the superhero off, Patton frowned; Virgil, however, snickered.

_“... a victim was held at gunpoint?”_

Patton screamed and threw his handful of popcorn at the television. With his hands now empty, Patton grabbed Virgil’s arm and started shaking him. “Virgil!!!! That’s me!!!! They’re talking about _me!!!_ ”

Virgil laughed, taking the bowl out of Patton’s lap. By now, Patton was all but sitting on the edge of the couch. The pair went on to talk about how the superhero’s pyrokinesis worked and Virgil was relieved, finally understanding that Patton’s life hadn’t _really_ been in as much danger as previously thought. Meanwhile, Patton was squeaking over the the Prince, once again, winking at the camera.

Virgil, with the eyes of a hawk, noticed immediately the dreamy look in the hero’s eyes as Logan asked about Patton’s well-being. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“Oh!! Virgil, that’s you!! You’re the friend!!” Patton exclaimed, patting Virgil on the knee.

He nodded and made a face of agreement, even though Patton’s eyes were still locked on the screen. The reporter wasted no time in calling his interviewee out and Virgil was endlessly amused by it. Silence fell between the two and Virgil could _see_ the realization dawning on Logan’s face. Logan Roberts didn’t smile much during his interviews and so when his lips curved slowly into a very smug sort of grin, Virgil wasn’t quite prepared.

“Oh no,” Virgil muttered, partially because _oh no, he was hot_ and partially because _oh no, the cat was out of the bag._

Sure enough, the Prince was suddenly yammering on about how he’d found Patton’s phone and returned it to him this morning. Virgil wished he could reach through the screen and strangle him. Did he not understand the meaning of privacy?!

Patton screamed and fell off of the couch. Without even thinking about it, Virgil twirled his finger in the air, pulling the shadows back to the middle of the room. They didn’t necessarily catch Patton, but they did pool beneath him to soften his fall.

“Thanks,” Patton muttered, distractedly, craning his neck to try and see passed the table so he could still watch the interview.

It cut, slightly awkwardly. Virgil narrowed his eyes. He offered his hand to Patton, who took it, and situated himself back on the couch. They moved on, discussing the broken window and displays. Patton was looking progressively more distressed at the way Logan was grilling the superhero. Virgil thought it was what he deserved but, more than anything, he was beginning to grow nervous over the fact that people knew now that they’d been visited by the Prince. It wasn’t like anyone knew who they were, or like he’d given away important information, but there had been other witnesses at the 7-Eleven, and what if they ended up recognizing Patton, and—

“Kiddo?” Patton was poking him in the face. “Are you okay?”

Virgil startled, pulled so suddenly from his spiraling. “Eehhh.”

“Okay,” Patton said agreeably.

Virgil exhaled harshly. “Just— What if someone finds out who you are from all _this_ and… I mean, there’s probably some people that might- I just don’t want us publicly associated with a _superhero,_ that’s just asking for trouble, y’know?” He avoided Patton’s eyes and glared at the TV.

The interview was wrapping up, but Patton had stopped paying attention to it. He turned to face Virgil fully, frowning. “He didn’t say our names, though! I guess he could’ve been a little more subtle… But still, I don’t think anyone could find us just from that. Although if we _did_ get in trouble, that would mean he’d come save us again…” Patton looked off into space with a little sigh, and it was obvious he was daydreaming.

Virgil blinked at him incredulously. “…Jeez. Okay, we really need to talk about your priorities. Again.”

Patton snapped out of it, glancing back and forth between Virgil and the television. Logan was thanking the Prince for his time. “We still need milk!” he said suddenly, leaping off the couch. He hurried out of the room and Virgil pinched the bridge of his nose. He turned the TV off and gathered what was left of their snacks and drinks, which, given how distracted they’d ended up, was most of what they had started with.

He was in the middle of putting the dishes away when there was a clatter by the front door. He jumped and spun around to find Patton, quietly apologizing to the dining room chair he’d bumped into. Virgil put his hands on his hips and gave Patton his best Mom Look.

“And just where do you think you’re going?”

Patton had the gall to look sheepish. “... Milk?”

Virgil’s eyebrows rose slowly. “Without an umbrella?” And by himself when it was getting dark, but one problem at a time.

Patton shot him a pair of nervous finger guns before darting back to his room. Virgil did the same, retrieving his own umbrella from his closet, and met Patton at the front door. Again, Patton looked surprised.

“You thought I was going to let you go alone?” Virgil asked. “You were _held at gunpoint last time_.”

“You accidentally get caught up in a convenience store robbery _one time!_ ” Patton complained teasingly. He looked thrilled, though, that Virgil was joining him.

Virgil checked to make sure they had their wallets, keys, and phones before they headed out. Hopefully nothing too exciting would happen this time.


	5. you have my heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton helps a stranger. Roman screams internally. Virgil acts like the embodiment of a dark and stormy night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: very brief mention of guns

“I still don’t see why we had to bring our umbrellas!” 

“Because there’s rain in the forecast and last time you got caught in it, you ended up with pneumonia.” 

“That was one time!”

Virgil glared at Patton. 

“... Fiiiiine,” Patton finally relented. “I guess it’s okay! Now we get to match!!” 

Their umbrellas were, in fact, matching. Both were light gray. Patton’s had purple polka dots and Virgil’s polka dots were light blue. 

When they arrived at the grocery store, it was a bit after 8pm. The list Virgil had typed out on his phone during the walk was short but knowing Patton, they’d end up leaving with more junk food than they would necessities. An employee greeted them as they entered and Patton waved back happily while Virgil kept his gaze averted. Interactions with strangers… yuck.

“Alright,” Virgil began as they headed towards the produce section. “I might have also joined you because I knew that if I let you go alone, you would’ve spent all your money on candy and cookies—”

“Hey!”

“— so I’m setting a rule right now. You can only get  _ two _ and that goes for candy  _ or _ cookies so make sure you think it through. Got it?” 

Patton was pouting, but he didn’t disagree. 

They wandered through the store, adding items to their cart, and chatting all the while. Patton made puns at every given opportunity, not that Virgil minded since Patton’s food related puns were always Grade A. He also kept trying to jump onto the cart to ride it down the aisles and Virgil was starting to get a little tired of apologizing to the other shoppers for his antics. Then again, it was pretty funny, and Virgil loved him a whole bunch, so he didn’t mind too much. By the time they were in line to pay, Patton had three packages of cookies and four candy bars. 

“I said  _ two  _ and don’t even think about—” 

Patton hit him with the Puppy Eyes. 

“Can you at least narrow it down to  _ one _ package of cookies and  _ two _ candy bars?” 

Patton stuck his lower lip out and added a pout to the Puppy Eyes.

“... Damn it,” Virgil muttered, rolling his eyes. “Fine.  _ Fine! _ But don’t come complaining to me when you get a stomachache!” 

“Language!” Patton admonished cheerfully.

The sky had been clear when they’d arrived, but the moment they stepped out of the door and back outside, dark storm clouds rolled in and rain was suddenly pouring down in sheets.

“Oh, great.”

“Oh! Great!” 

Virgil caught Patton by the wrist before he could go running out into the rain. 

“Patton!” Virgil scolded. He made a point of opening his umbrella before stepping out from under the awning above the door. 

Patton frowned but did the same, joining Virgil in the rain. He really must not have thought that the weather forecast was correct or Virgil was positive he would have worn his boots so that he could splash around in the puddles. It was nearing 9pm now, though, and Virgil didn’t want them both in the rain  _ and _ the dark for too long, so he ushered Patton along and back towards home. 

The two were hardly five steps from the door when someone brushed by them on the sidewalk, and  _ they _ had barely made it five steps before Patton was calling out to them. 

“Uhm! Excuse me?” He began and the person stopped, shoulders raising as if they’d been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. “It’s raining and you don’t have an umbrella.” Patton was stating the obvious and Virgil hoped they wouldn’t get mad at him for it, or else he might have to fight them, and he really wasn’t up for that right about now. 

They turned, wearing a bright smile, and Virgil almost screamed. It was none other than the Prince standing in front of them and Virgil could tell for two reasons. One, the red tinged hair was a dead giveaway. Two, he was still in his superhero costume, even if he  _ had _ turned the cape into some weird poncho looking thing to be (supposedly) less obvious. 

“I know that!” He exclaimed, “I was caught unprepared! Dreadful, really.” 

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Virgil said, glaring more than he ought to be at someone who was technically a complete stranger. 

“No, no!” Patton disagreed, shaking his head. He handed his bag of groceries to Virgil before approaching the hero. “Here, we can share an umbrella! It looks like you’re going the same way as us!” 

It was then, evidently, that he realized just who they were. Even from here and even though they were mostly stood in the dark, Virgil could see his face going bright red. Hmm… maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. Smirking, Virgil shrugged and joined them, balancing his umbrella and the groceries with ease. 

“Yeah, alright, I guess.” He grinned at the Prince. “What’s your name, dude?” 

It took him longer than it should really take anybody to introduce themselves, but Patton didn’t seem to notice as they continued down the sidewalk. 

“Roman,” he said finally, “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“I’m Patton!” 

Virgil swore he saw an  _ “I know” _ forming on the hero’s lips before he interrupted. “I’m Virgil.”

“And just what are the two of you doing out in such dreary weather?” Roman asked, doing his very best to keep enough space between himself and Patton. He was dripping wet, having decided he’d just wait until he got home to dry off rather than use his pyrokinesis to keep dry while in the rain. He didn’t want to get Patton wet, but he also didn’t want Patton to feel the heat radiating off of his skin; he was blushing fiercely, he knew it, and he didn’t really want to reveal himself just yet. 

“We had to go shopping!” Patton answered, doing his very best to stay close to their new friend so that he wouldn’t get caught in the rain anymore than he already had. 

“What are  _ you _ doing out?” Virgil asked, far too casually, and Roman was beginning to think he knew more than he was letting on.

“Oh… you know… just taking a walk…” Roman responded slowly, cringing internally. He was normally so good at talking to people! Was the ray of sunshine beside him really so distracting— Patton smiled sweetly at him and Roman’s train of thought derailed completely. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I was here to be the Superman to your Lois  _ Rain!" _

There was silence. Then, at the same moment, Virgil groaned and Roman burst into laughter. Patton wasn’t surprised by his best friend’s response but to get such a pleasant reaction from someone he’d just met… Well, if he weren’t already head over heels for the superhero that had saved him yesterday, he might have started crushing on Roman right then and there.

Virgil lingered behind the pair, allowing them to walk together on the sidewalk without it becoming cramped. He glared daggers into the back of Princey’s head the entire time and every so often, shifted all the things he was carrying so that it wouldn’t get uncomfortable. Whether or not Roman had realized yet that  _ Virgil _ had realized who he was didn’t really matter; what mattered was that Patton was still ridiculously in love and Virgil had to look out for him.

“I hope you don’t get sick easily,” Patton was saying, concerned. “Will you make sure to have some soup and tea when you get home?” 

“Of course,” Roman said agreeably. “Your advice means the world to me.”

Patton blushed. “Aw! It really wasn’t much…”

“Nonsense!” Roman argued. “We’ve just met and you’re already so kind. Really… I appreciate it.” 

Virgil made a face behind them. This was quickly becoming unbearable. Sappy, lovestruck idiots that had absolutely no idea what they were doing… yuck. 

“The world needs more kindness!” Patton said, trying to think beyond just how warm Roman’s very presence was. He wondered for a second how cozy it would be to cuddle up with him on a rainy night like this. Shaking his head, Patton continued, “For example! Just yesterday, I was rescued by the Prince!” 

If Virgil wasn’t already one hundred percent sure that Roman  _ was _ the Prince thanks to his unusually good night-vision, he’d give Patton a very stern talking to about how they were supposed to be keeping their connection with him on the down low. Since that wasn’t an issue, though, he settled in to watch as the hero grew increasingly flustered while Patton went on. 

“Oh?” Roman squeaked. He cleared his throat. “What was that like?”

_ "Amazing!!!" _ Patton gushed, only managing to hold his hands still because he had to keep the both of them under the umbrella. “He’s so  _ brave!  _ The bad guys had guns but he didn’t even flinch! I know he saves people all the time but…” Patton paused, looking away, suddenly shy.

“Yes?” Roman prompted, hoping it would be enough to encourage Patton to go on. He really should have been figuring out an escape route because at this point, he was going to burst into flames any minute now but… he just wanted to hear Patton talk a bit longer, okay?

“He brought my phone back to me the next day…” Patton’s voice had gone soft, as if he still couldn’t believe it. “That’s so considerate, isn’t it? Imagine how many other things he has to do but he… he found the time to return something precious to me…” 

“Yeah, and then he burnt your hand and took off,” Virgil piped up. 

“It was an accident!” Roman and Patton said at the same time. 

They all came to a very sudden stop on the sidewalk. Virgil was glowering at Roman and Patton was staring at him with wide, surprised eyes. Roman looked anywhere but at the two before stepping out from underneath the umbrella. Despite his shock, Patton made a noise of discontentment and moved to follow. 

“No, no! Really! It’s okay!” Roman reassured. “And I’m only guessing it was an accident! Since you just said how nice he was! Y’know?” This was going poorly. He backed up, gave an awkward little smile and wave, and darted for the nearest building. “This is where I was going thanks bye!” He ducked inside and put his head in his hands, trying not to scream.

Virgil and Patton watched, entertained and confused respectively, as Roman fled into a 24hr Laundromat. Patton seemed relieved that he was no longer in the rain but he worried still about what suddenly had him so upset.

“He knows we can still see him, right?” Virgil asked as Roman paced back and forth in full view of the large windows that took up the front of the building. They saw him grow even more agitated, apparently soliloquizing to the air, before finally throwing himself across several empty washing machines with an air of defeat and a groan they could hear from outside.

Patton winced. “Oh dear. Should we…”

“I’ll go talk to him,” Virgil interrupted, handing over the groceries. He headed for the door and Patton understood that he should wait here in case Roman felt cornered with both of them, even though he was concerned for his new friend. 

There were two other people present and Virgil swore internally, realizing he’d have to watch what he said to Roman. They looked a little put out by Roman’s dramatics and Virgil wondered what he must have been ranting about. He hoped it wasn’t anything  _ too _ incriminating. Leaning against the end of the row of machines, Virgil waited until Roman acknowledged his presence.

“That was… smooth.”

Roman sighed and risked a glance outside. Patton was watching them still and when he caught Roman’s gaze, he gave him a shy smile and a wave. Despite having been stood in the rain for a few seconds and being thoroughly drenched, Roman felt warm all over. 

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Roman sniffed, crossing his arms. 

“Riiiight…” Virgil answered. “Listen, I don’t know you but I do know Patton and I know how he gets so maybe… just…” Virgil gestured vaguely, aware that they were definitely being eavesdropped on right now. “Don’t hurt him.”

“Why on Earth would I do that!” Roman said, quite suddenly very offended. It seemed like he was trying to be taller than Virgil, but seeing as they both stood at roughly 6’ even, he wasn’t nearly as successful as he would have like to be in his intimidation. 

In fact,  _ Virgil _ was the intimidating one, after hearing Roman’s apparent nonchalance regarding Patton’s easily hurt feelings. His expression darkened and he scowled, stepping closer towards Roman, and jabbing a finger against his chest.

“If you hurt him,” Virgil snarled, “I will kill you.”

Patton, ever in tune with his best friend’s moods, nudged the door open, and peeked in. “Everything going okay in here?” 

Virgil spun and gave him a smile. “Absolutely, Pat! Give us just a couple more minutes, yeah?”

Patton didn’t look convinced but he stepped back outside regardless.

“I’m not going to hurt him!” Roman argued. 

“You’re telling that to  _ me?" _ Virgil scoffed. “I was the one that had to patch him up this morning! You just  _ left _ after…” He sent a glare towards the woman that seemed to be edging closer to better hear their fight. “Do you  _ mind?" _ he snapped. 

She scurried away, looking guilty, but more because she’d been caught and not because of the actual snooping itself. Virgil sighed. Roman, having been too distracted watching Patton as he leaned just enough from under his umbrella to catch raindrops on his tongue, finally realized exactly what Virgil was saying. His dreamy gaze snapped to him, suddenly panicked.

“Wait! Wait, you…” He lowered his voice, “you know who I am?”

“Not at all,” Virgil said, deadpan, giving Roman and his completely concealed costume a very pointed look. “Your cape-turned-weird-poncho isn’t super obvious in the least.”

Roman, without warning, grabbed one of Virgil’s wrists, and tugged him further away from the Laundromat patrons and to a more secluded spot. Virgil hissed as he did so, trying to yank himself free, but Roman was a superhero, and by default stronger than Virgil. 

“Sorry,” Roman apologized, letting go once they were alone. He looked nervous and Virgil was secretly pleased. Served him right. Virgil folded his arms over his chest, scowling at the hero.

“I’m serious. There’s not much I can do to dissuade Patton from his crush but,” and here, Virgil paused, feeling the shadows in their corner gather beneath his boots. To anyone else, it might seem like a lightbulb had gone out, but Roman saw the darkness pooling in Virgil’s eyes. “If you harm a single hair on his—”

“Virgil!” Patton called suddenly, sounding like he was going to start scolding any minute now. 

Virgil huffed and took a step back. He gave Roman one last glare, sharp still but no longer pitch black, before turning to the door. “We have perishables, so we need to get home soon.” 

“I understand,” Roman said, following him back outside. 

Virgil opened his umbrella as he stepped back into the downpour and watched as Roman returned to his spot beside Patton. He seemed to be casting nervous glances in Virgil’s direction, as if unsure of what he’d seen in the Laundromat. Virgil couldn’t even be bothered so long as the hero learned his lesson after all. The remaining walk was kept pleasant by Patton talking about this (his favorite flowers) or that (Roman’s cool rain gear) and never once noticing the tension in the air between his best friend and his new friend. Roman did eventually claim an apartment complex a few blocks down as his, though Virgil found that hard to believe.

“This is where we part ways, then.” Roman flashed a radiant smile to Patton. “Thank you so much for sharing your umbrella with me.” 

“Of course!” Patton exclaimed. “Take care of yourself, okay? Throw a blanket in the dryer!”

“An excellent idea,” Roman agreed. He turned to Virgil. “A pleasure to meet you,” he said, sounding like it wasn’t a pleasure at all. 

Virgil understood completely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ps: the chapter title is from "umbrella" by rihanna


	6. the second time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton is late. Roman is also late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for your patience on this update!! 
> 
> warnings: robbery, injuries, threat to one’s life, hospital mention, negative thoughts

The second time it happened wasn’t Patton’s fault either, he would insist, although some may disagree. He was on his way home from the daycare where he worked, a little over a week after the events that led to him meeting the new love of his life, and although he knew stopping to step on every crunchy leaf littered on the sidewalk might make him miss his bus, he couldn’t really bring himself to be worried. It was practically a rule for autumn! You had to step on crunchy leaves! The noise was satisfying beneath his shoes and he giggled at each one, earning delighted smiles from children being hurried along by their parents. If Virgil were with him, Patton knew he’d have that “exasperated but fond” look on his face. He kind of wore it all the time whenever they were together…

A particularly nice bunch of leaves was just a few feet ahead of him and Patton guessed that they’d been swept there from the entrance of a store so as not to be accidentally tracked in. His expression lit up upon seeing it, and he was about ready to hop or skip his way over to those good good crunchy boys when a loud clatter came from his right. Patton paused, foot extended in literal mid-step, turning to see what the commotion was. He’d stopped next to a jewelry store; its lights were off and they looked closed for the day.

It seemed kind of early (the sun had yet to set) but Patton wasn’t going to blame anyone for wanting to be home as soon as possible. If they were closed, though, what was making so much noise? Before Patton could begin to investigate, the door swung open so fast, the glass pane within it shattered. Yelping in alarm, Patton moved to take a step back, but several things happened all at once.

There was an odd blurring of the air near the door, but Patton didn’t have time to wonder about it before he found himself flat on his back in the strip of grass between street and sidewalk, and at the same moment there was a ridiculously loud crash and he instinctively turned away and covered his head with his arms, and a second after _that_ he finally registered the pain resulting from something colliding hard with the leg with which he’d been about to step forward. As he blinked quite a few times in utter confusion and started to sit up, he heard loud swearing nearby and realized that “something” had been a person. From Patton's point of view, he could only see their ankle boots and heavy jacket -- definitely too thick a material for the current weather. Patton was even warm in his thin cardigan. That was Florida for you, he supposed…

“Sorry,” Patton called, pretty sure it was his fault that the person had tripped in the first place… Although he had no idea where they had come from… “Are you okay?”

Patton became vaguely aware of the sound of alarms going off in the jewelry store behind him but he was sufficiently distracted from it when the stranger stood up so quickly, Patton didn't even see it happen. One moment, they were collapsed in the street, and the next they were storming towards him with fury in their eyes. They were wearing a mask that was golden, sharp at the edges, with lightning bolts striking down their cheekbones; whether they were part of the fabric or painted on or something else entirely, Patton wasn't sure. Their hair was auburn red, looking like they had permanent bedhead, and the eyes glaring at him were a shade as blue as the sky on a clear day. Now that they were facing him, Patton could see the outfit beneath the coat was a material not unlike spandex and just as flashy as the mask. 

" _You!_ " They snarled, grabbing a fistful of Patton's shirt and lifting him off the ground by his collar.

“I'm sorry!” Patton said again, raising his own hands in a display of peace. It seemed like the best course of action, especially since he was pretty sure most normal people couldn't have picked him up so easily.

“Do you have any idea what you've _done?!_ ” They snapped, jabbing a finger into Patton's face.

“Been in the wrong place at the wrong time?” Patton offered meekly, hoping they'd realize this was all just one big misunderstanding. Gosh, what would Virgil say now… It really was starting to look like Patton was getting into trouble on purpose! He'd been joking when he said so last week, honest!

“That heist would have been perfect were it not for your idiocy! Just who do you think you are?” They sneered, scowling down at Patton. “Not even powered, are you?”

Patton frowned. Would it have been so bad if he wasn't? Having superpowers was rare! In fact, _Patton_ was the normal one here! He tried to pull himself free, his legs aching from having to stand on the tips of his toes with the way this person was holding him. It didn't help that it hurt to put _any_ weight on his left foot, given how badly his ankle was throbbing. He wasn't given the opportunity, however, as they shoved him away in disgust. Patton stumbled back, landing hard on the sidewalk. He winced and mentally added a bruised tailbone to his list of injuries.

“Clearly, you're a menace to everyone around you, so I might as well take care of that.”

Whatever it was they were planning on doing, Patton wouldn't find out. The alarms inside the jewelry store were joined now with the sound of police sirens coming down the road. Their head snapped towards the noise; the movement was so sudden, Patton thought they'd hurt their neck in the process. He tried to crawl backwards and away from them, slowly so as not to be noticed.

And speaking of noticing…

Patton saw now, littered along the sidewalk and all the way out to the street where the villain (it was so _obvious_ now) had fallen, various pieces of jewelry. It was a lot of shiny and expensive looking necklaces, for the most part. Unfortunately, so distracted in getting away and realizing exactly what he'd done, Patton failed to remember the broken door from earlier. He cried out in pain as his palm came down on the shattered glass. He’d only just recoiled, curling his arm against his chest and blinking rapidly to slow the tears in his eyes, when a foot stomped down in front of him.

“This won't be the last time you see me,” the villain promised and Patton wondered distantly why it sounded like he was being threatened right now.

He closed his eyes against the wind that kicked up as they disappeared and Patton finally connected the dots: he’d just inadvertently stopped a super fast bad guy from robbing a jewelry store. That would explain why his ankle hurt so badly; they’d had to have crashed into it while making their getaway. Patton fumbled for his phone and fired a text off to Virgil before he could get swept up in the police investigation. It was a little hard with one of his hands hurt but spell check helped a lot. ' _Gonna be home late! Love you <3_'

Patton stayed put where he was as the cars pulled up to the scene. He explained as best he could what had happened, pointing out the jewelry and the shattered window pane. He described the villain, making sure to detail the mask as best he could because he figured that would be the easiest way to identify them. The officer — a nice lady named Eva — called an ambulance for him and insisted he not move much so that he wouldn’t aggravate his injuries any further. It wasn’t until he was laid out on a stretcher in the back of the vehicle that Patton remembered how expensive hospitals were. How was he supposed to afford something like this? He worked at a daycare! Virgil would insist on helping but it wasn’t like coffee shop tips would do much.  

It all sort of started blurring together at some point. There were pages to fill out and sign, insurance questions to answer, and it was so much sitting still that Patton was really starting to get antsy. He hadn’t been able to check his phone since messaging Virgil and he was beginning to worry about _Virgil_ worrying and he just had to step on all those crunchy leaves, didn’t he?

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” the nurse said softly, resting a hand on his arm.

“Huh?” Patton asked and it was then that he realized he’d begun to cry. “Oh.”

He wiped at his eyes and gave her a watery smile. “Sorry.”

“I’m sure you’ve had a very long day. We’re almost done here, alright? We just need the doctor to prescribe you some painkillers. Will you need crutches?”

Patton turned the offer down since he wasn’t sure he’d actually use them. They were kind of clunky. Thankfully, his ankle was only mildly sprained, and they figured he would only need to stay off of it for a couple days. They’d gotten all of the glass shards out of his palm and his hand was wrapped up so snugly that it was a bit awkward moving it. Unfortunately, it was his dominant hand, which meant the next couple of days with _that_ were going to be uncomfortable.

Wow. He was not having a great day.

Eventually, they released him with a bunch of important papers and a prescription that he couldn’t get filled until tomorrow. The moon had risen during his time inside and the cool fall weather was starting to set in. Was he crying while trying to use his phone in his left hand to call an Uber? Maybe. It was okay, though, just as long as he could pull himself together by the time he got home so he wouldn’t have to worry Virgil anymore than he already was. He hadn’t replied to the text and Patton wondered if he was stuck late at work.

A loud thud sounded to his right and Patton flinched, too tired to do much else.

“Are you okay?!”

Patton startled, finally looking to see who joined him. He squeaked in surprise. “Ah! You! Uhm!”

The superhero he’d fallen head over heels for was taking a seat beside him on the bench. While he’d initially looked rather panicked, his expression softened as he took Patton’s bandaged hand in his.

“Oh no,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry. I should have been there.”

Patton was pretty sure he was melting. “It’s alright… How could you have known?”

The Prince scoffed. “It’s my job. I let you down.”

Patton frowned, pulling his hand free just so that he could jab a finger against the hero’s chest. “Hey! None of that! You did no such thing. It wouldn’t be fair to you for us to expect you to be everywhere at once.”

He didn’t look convinced.

“What if there had been a building on fire?” Patton asked. “I would rather you take care of that over silly little me accidentally stopping a robbery.”

He hummed. “I suppose… you might have a point.”

“I’m fine, anyway!” Patton said suddenly, smiling brightly. “My ankle should only take a few days to get better.” He waved his hand. “This will take even less time. And I stopped a robbery! Isn’t that so exciting?!”

His voice was starting to get wobbly and his eyes were beginning to sting again but Patton hoped it wasn’t obvious. They were still practically strangers so maybe his crush wouldn’t even notice. Patton knew that he was pretty good at hiding these sorts of things—well, from everyone except Virgil, of course.

“... Could I…” The hero hesitated. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Patton laughed in the sort of way people laugh when they’re trying not to cry. “I dunno, can you pay for the hospital bills I’m going to end up drowning in?”

“Yes.”

Patton blinked.” What?”

“Yes,” the Prince repeated. “Absolutely.”

“Wha—” Patton stammered. “No! I… that’s not what I meant! I was kidding!”

“It’s the least I could do since I wasn’t there for you.”

“Prince! Er… Your Highness? Uh, I’m not sure what— It’s okay, really, you don’t have to do that! I was just… it was a joke.”

The hero was smiling at him through his rambling and Patton was sure he’d combust any moment now. For once, though, he seemed to have his head on straight. He needed to get home. He needed to talk to Virgil.

“May I escort you home?”

Patton’s entire face felt like it was on fire. “Wh- what? Are… are you sure?”

“Only if you’re okay with it, of course.”

Patton looked down at his phone. The screen to call an Uber was still up. It displayed the cost of the drive. He didn’t really need that on top of everything else…

“Okay,” Patton agreed. “Do you… have a car?”

The Prince laughed as he stood. “Not for cases like this. You aren’t too far from here, right?”

Patton went to stand as well, teetering a little as he tried not to put weight on his injured ankle. He wasn’t, thankfully; the hospital was closer to home than the jewelry store was. “I’m close! I guess I ought to get used to walking in this ankle boot...”

“Ah, ah, ah!” The hero tsked. “Here we go, ready?”

Before Patton could ask what he was supposed to be ready for, the Prince was sweeping him off his feet. Literally. Patton gasped, arms shooting to wrap around his neck.

“Oh! Okay,” he laughed a little nervously. “Okay! Yeah, this… this is fine. Good. It’s great.”

He was going to _die_.

Roman tried very, very hard not to think about the proximity of Patton’s face to his own as he carried him in the direction of his apartment building. He seemed a little embarrassed about the situation already, ducking his head against Roman’s shoulder to hide the very cute blush coloring his cheeks, and it wouldn’t do to make him any more self-conscious by staring. (Also, there was a non-zero chance of walking into something if he got too distracted, and Patton was known to be _extremely_ distracting.)

In the silence that stretched between Patton’s occasional directions, Roman recalled how he’d gotten to this point. Regrettably, it’d been a chores kind of day, and so he hadn’t even been doing anything important or heroic when Patton could have used his help. Afterwards, he’d donned his costume, and headed out for patrol. The sun was on its way to setting by the time he’d stopped at the nearest police station for a report. He liked to check in on days that he wasn’t able to properly keep an eye on the city, just in case he missed anything important. Most crimes were small enough that the local police could take care of it but Roman just liked to be there for the people.

When he’d found that a jewelry store robbery had been stopped by a civilian, Roman’s curiosity was piqued. The moment the name “Patton” fell from the officer’s lips (he hadn’t even got the last name out), Roman was demanding which hospital they’d taken him to. Immediately, he’d taken off for it, reprimanding himself the entire way for being negligent; at least his timing had been good enough to catch Patton before he left. The offer to pay for his hospital bills was sudden but it wasn’t like Roman couldn’t afford it and, besides, it really _was_ the least he could do. Besides taking Patton out on the most extravagant of dates, anyway, and spoiling him with flowers, gifts, affection—

“Pardon?” Roman asked, blinking and clearing his head of his daydreams.

Patton giggled, though it still sounded a bit forced. Roman frowned. “I was just saying, my building is this next one.”

They headed in and Patton pointed Roman in the direction of the elevator. He focused very hard on the music playing through the tiny speakers and not of how warm Patton felt in his arms. He may have been familiar with elevated temperatures, but this was entirely different. It wasn’t until they were very nearly to Patton’s apartment that his phone went off. Roman was going to make a comment on the _The Nightmare Before Christmas_ ringtone when the door swung open to reveal a _very_ panicked Virgil. 

Oh dear.


	7. is this allowed??

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil hates his job and also his life. Logan definitely, for sure knows how to talk to a cute guy without imploding. Remy tries to help, but like... not very hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we aren't dead
> 
> warnings: none

“Rem… _please_. I have a _splitting_ headache and you are _not_ helping.”

The string of offended curses that followed weren’t helping either. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Well, _maybe_ if you would just tell me what happened last night, I wouldn’t have to bother you so much about it!”

Virgil took the bell ringing above the door as his chance to get away from his coworker and the relentless badgering. Remy had been at it since Virgil showed up for his shift — which had been a miracle all its own. Of course he hadn’t wanted to leave Patton home alone! Virgil was starting to think he shouldn’t leave Patton alone _ever._ Sure, he’d been clumsy and accident-prone in their youth but this was kinda getting out of hand. For as long as they’d been living together, Patton had never had encounters with superheroes or supervillains, and suddenly it happens twice in the span of a few weeks? If Virgil didn’t know any better, he’d guess that Patton _did_ have powers, and they were of the bad luck variety.

“Babe. I’m going to find out one way or another.”

Oh, Virgil recognized _that_ tone.

“That’s your ‘ _I already know but I want your version of the story_ ’ voice.”

Again, spluttered indignation. Virgil knew people often didn’t disagree with Remy (something about his “charm”) but it’d never cease to amaze him how offended he was every time Virgil called him out on something.

“I have no such thing!”

“You kinda do,” Toby called from a booth in the corner where he was currently working on designs for tomorrow’s board.

Remy shot a glare in his direction.

“Linda, your caramel macchiato with soy.”

The moment Linda was out the door and their coffee shop empty, Remy rounded on Virgil.

“Fine! Why was the Prince at your apartment last night!”

Virgil, despite _knowing_ that Remy knew, was still surprised.

“And why was he bridal carrying Patton as if they were newlyweds!”

Virgil blinked, wondering why Remy seemed so hung up on _that_ of all things.

“Does this have anything to do with that attempted jewelry store robbery?”

“Why do you need to hear anything from me when you apparently have all the details?” Virgil frowned. “What the hell, dude, do you have ears everywhere?”

Remy waved his hand dismissively. “Hon, don’t worry about it, just tell me what _happened!”_

Virgil glanced around the coffeeshop. For the time being, it was empty. They’d just reached that rare slow time between rushes. Other than Toby, who Virgil didn’t mind overhearing anyway since Remy was likely to share with him afterwards regardless, there was no one around to eavesdrop. Sighing, Virgil let Remy wait a few more agonizing minutes while he cleaned up from the last drink and washed his hands before finally getting comfy leaning against the counter.

“Patton accidentally tripped the speedster while they were trying to make their getaway,” Virgil began, trying to ignore the anxiety doing its best to make him worry again. It was in the past! It already happened! Let it go, Virgil. _“That_ kind of fucked up his ankle and then, when trying to remove himself from the situation, he hurt his hand on some glass that had broken from the door.”

Remy was looking more and more distraught with each word and Virgil wondered why his coworker was so worried about his roommate when they hadn’t even met.

“The Prince found out somehow and met Patton at the hospital and offered to help him home. Which, like, that isn’t totally weird. I’m definitely not bothered over this superpowered stranger being so good at finding my best friend, nope, no big deal _at all._ ”

“Okay, okay, we get it,” Remy interrupted. “He probably talked to the police, babe, it’s fine. Besides, he already knows where you live so… whatever, right?”

Virgil scowled at him. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”

“Did you give him a piece of your mind?” Toby asked, getting them back on track.

“Did I — No shit, Sherlock!” Virgil snapped. “I’d been trying to get a hold of Patton because he was supposed to be home before me and he wasn’t answering and then I open the door to find him there, in the arms of that hot-headed prick?!”

“No proof that his highness has a temper,” Remy piped up.

“Shut up, it was a pyrokinetic joke and you know it. Anyway, Patton was… already pretty upset and my yelling didn’t help, so that… Uhm.” Virgil trailed off, looking guilty all of a sudden. Remy had a pretty good inkling as to why, but before he could mention it, the bell ringing notified them to another customer. They all quickly pretended they hadn’t been standing there talking for the last ten minutes, but as soon as Virgil looked up, he forgot how to act productive. Logan Roberts? In _his_ coffee shop? It was, apparently, more likely than he thought.

“Uh- hey, welcome,” he said once he remembered how to talk.

Logan smiled, which wasn’t fair. “Hello, I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”

Virgil thought he might have been teasing, but he still looked so serious, and anyway he was already spilling out words like the gay dumbass he was. “No—we were just, I was telling them about something that happened to my friend yesterday—sorry, I’m an idiot, what did you want? To order?” He cringed as internally as possible and started making plans to never speak again.

Logan took a moment to peruse the menu while Virgil wondered how bad it would look if he ducked out of this particular order and let Remy take care of it. Before he could do so, Logan looked back at him, smiled _again,_ _why did he keep having to smile_ , and spoke.

“I’ll take a black coffee in the largest size you have,” he requested, and Virgil wanted to disappear because of _course_ it was Logan Roberts's first time at their coffeeshop and of _course_ Virgil had to be the one to ring him up.

“On it, babe!” Remy chirped, getting started on the drink, and sounding suspiciously like he knew exactly the gay crisis Virgil was currently experiencing.

Logan's expression soured at the nickname and Virgil hurried to remedy it.

“Ignore him,” Virgil suggested, typing the order into the register. “I'm sure you've dealt with more annoying, anyway.”

“ _Hey!_ ” Remy shouted.

Logan sighed and adjusted his tie. “Quite,” he agreed, taking out his wallet. “I'm going to need this to interact with certain of my own associates later.”

“At least you’re not interviewing any super-powered pricks today.”

Logan blinked, looking at him with renewed interest. “True. I have to say, it’s refreshing to meet someone else who doesn’t worship the ground he walks on. …Or flies over, as it may be.”

“Same thing I thought watching your interview, dude.” Virgil cracked a smile at the memory, which he hardly _ever_ did for anyone but Patton. “It was, uh… good.” Yes. Great job, Virgil, that wasn’t lame at all. “Patton, though—that’s my roommate—he never shuts _up_ about him. And now I can’t even be annoyed, ‘cause he went and got himself hurt yesterday…” Virgil realized he was rambling, only digging himself deeper into the hole of awkwardness.

Logan, however, had perked up even more.

“Patton Minett?”

In a heartbeat, Virgil was on red alert. He eyed Logan suspiciously as the reporter swiped his card to pay for his drink. “... No.”

“You’ve lived with him for years but go off, I guess,” Remy deadpanned in the background.

“Apologies,” Logan said hurriedly. “I merely wondered if this was the same Patton who prevented a robbery last night. I’ve been trying to find a way to get in contact with him in order to hear the details directly from the source, you see. …If you knew him, I might have asked you to aid me in that endeavor.”

Virgil crossed his arms, searching Logan’s face for anything to actually justify that first instinct of telling him to fuck off. … It wasn’t really _his_ job to decide Patton shouldn’t do this, was it?

_“If_ I know him,” he finally said, “which I’m not saying I do, I wouldn’t go around giving people his information just because they said they wanna talk to him. How about you tell _me_ how to contact _you,_ and then _if_ I know him and _if_ he wants to, he’ll call you or whatever.”

“That’s a lot of _if_ s,” Logan remarked wryly. “But I suppose I’m not opposed to your proposal.” He blinked, processed what he’d just said, and winced. “That, ah, was not intentional. Here, before I embarrass myself any further.” He pulled a tiny notepad out of his pocket, because _obviously_ he was the sort of person to carry a tiny notepad around at all times, and scribbled down a phone number. “I hope to hear from you soon,” he said with a smile, and then left before Virgil could collect himself enough to respond. And also without waiting for his coffee. Oops?

“Huh.” Remy watched him walk away, not quite caring enough to run outside and remind him. “Guess he doesn’t get to see that I wrote your number on this cup now.”

“You WHAT?!”

Virgil grabbed the coffee cup out of his hand and slam dunked it into the trash.

“Aww. I was gonna drink that.”

“I’m not talking to you anymore, I’m going on break, do not even try to exist near me or I _swear.”_ He yanked his apron over his head, balled it up, and threw it to the side with only a _small_ glance to make sure it wouldn’t land in a bad place and, like, cause a fire or something. Which was his version of carelessly.

Toby spoke up from his booth, where he’d been shamelessly eavesdropping on everything. “He’s going to scream into a towel, isn’t he?”

“Yup.”

 

* * *

 

Logan realized he had no coffee before he’d even made it all the way out the door, but it was too late, there was nothing to be done at this point. There was no way he could go back and stand at the counter until it was finished… much like there was no way he could ever set foot in that coffeeshop again. What a _disaster._ Logan was very good at ordering coffee and very good at establishing contacts to assist in his work, but apparently when the two combined he became completely useless, which had nothing to do with any hypothetical cute baristas he may have particularly wanted to make a good impression on, why would some equally hypothetical person even suggest that? Preposterous.

The mood he found himself in for the rest of the day, resulting from various factors such as “no caffeine” and “series of interpersonal screwups,” meant that everyone else mostly avoided him. Unfortunately, this left him with a lot of time to think. He spent most of that time attempting to rephrase the thought _“I hope Virgil calls me soon”_ into something a bit more professional. This was more difficult that it sounded, as each new clarification left him with the uncomfortable feeling that he was lying to himself.

 

* * *

 

Virgil didn’t stop screaming into a towel until it was almost the end of his shift anyway, and by that point everyone agreed it would be better if he just went home. He was scaring the customers. He barely remembered his walk back to the apartment building, what with his entire brain being taken up by _“holy shit I have Logan Roberts’s number”_ and _“oh my god I looked like such a weird rude idiot in front of Logan Roberts, I can never try to talk to him again ever.”_ All he knew was that he was at the coffeeshop, and then eventually, he was opening the front door.

“Patton,” he called out, knowing his roommate would be able to hear him from wherever he was. “Please don’t ask me to explain but _we have to fucking move.”_

**Author's Note:**

> find us at [notveryglittery](https://notveryglittery.tumblr.com) (dani) and [do-your-socks-have-holes-in-them](https://do-your-socks-have-holes-in-them.tumblr.com) (nick)!! 
> 
> read on [tumblr](https://notveryglittery.tumblr.com/tagged/flirting-with-danger/chrono)!!  
> also, we make no promises on a consistent update schedule but we love this au very much and will not let it die :')

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [these chills didn't come from the cold](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16947225) by [quantumducky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumducky/pseuds/quantumducky)




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